Harmonic Homeruns
by MegaTJ
Summary: Nothing outside of baseball had ever captured the attention of Perfect Pitch for more than a few minutes. His entire world changes when he stumbles upon a certain cellist...
1. Two Sides of the Same Coin

Two Sides of the Same Coin

"YOU'RE OUT!"

That shout echoed inside of Pitch's head with a vengeance. It was the last thing out of the umpire's mouth before all of his teammates to groaned and complained from the dugout. It was his third screw up just that game. Needless to say he was losing his edge and, even more so, his nerve. He had beaten himself up ever since he left the diamond. His head hung low as he counted the lines in the sidewalks of Canterlot. He barely noticed any of the snobs and higher-ups pass as he walked home.

"Why is this happening to me?" he asked himself again. The light blue Pegasus Pony had been the Canterlot Trotters' MVP since he had joined the team. He and his friends had enjoyed victory over and over again for the past three seasons. Now suddenly he stunk. The last fourteen games had been nothing short of harsh on his baseball career. Nearly every ball he pitched was just that, a ball, and he could no longer bat to save his life. He just thanked the good mercy of Princess Celestia that his contract hadn't expired yet.

He looked back at his flank, where the Cutie Mark of three baseballs flying out of a park was situated. "I don't deserve this Cutie Mark…" It was the fifth time he had said that since the end of the game against the Fillies. And it only added to his dismay that that particular team was the lowest ranking team in the League.

So, he continued to criticize himself for incompetence and other failure-inducing things. No tears fell to the ground with his gaze, for his anger with himself overcame any hint of sadness. Pitch was always the last pony to cry, if even then. He might have flown home, but his seething depression left his wings too weary to move much. Plus, he wasn't much a flier anyway.

As the heat of the day came down on him, Pitch could only sigh in frustration. He kept thinking back to the easy line drive that should have popped right into his mitt, and how an easy strikeout came about as a home runner. But worst of all, he managed to strikeout on three straight pitches! And all he needed was just one run to win the game!

He stopped walking and decided to finally look up to see where his unguided walking had brought him. He was in an unfamiliar-yet-recognizable part of Canterlot. He had always strolled through this district, but had never really paid much attention to it. Probably because he was an athlete. Anyways, he had managed to wander into Canterlot's Music Avenue. As the name implies, this was the main street where music clubs, orchestras, etc. were found. To try and cool off his steaming irritation, he decided to roam about, hopefully to find a free concert or street musician somewhere.

With each step through the more peaceful part of the big city, Pitch became more relaxed. All of the stress and tenseness had melted away within a matter of a few blocks. The colors were vibrant, not the bright and flashy colors of advertisements that could be found elsewhere in Canterlot. The busy air was replaced with peaceful music which alternated among the different genres as he walked passed different buildings.

"Wow…" he breathed, "I need to come by here a lot more…"

His pace picked up as his excitement grew, eager to explore more of Music Avenue. He kept walking until some of the peace disappeared, and realized he was starting to leave the inner part of the music square. There was nothing but instrument shops now, and much of the crowd had returned to the sidewalk. Deciding that he didn't want to get back into the busy atmosphere of the city, he quickly turned around and then quickly regretted it.

_WHAM!_

He spun so fast that he crashed right into another pony. A loud banging noise blasted in his ears as he hit the ground. _That sounded expensive_, he thought.

"Oomph!" He grunted upon landing. That hurt. He actually blacked out a little. He didn't hurry to try and help the other pony up or even open his eyes. This was Canterlot, and the least he would get would be a "Don't touch me, you filthy, barbaric thing!" However, no insult came. Instead, something much softer and contradicting rang out in an alarmed tone.

"Oh, my apologies! I wasn't watching where I was walking."

He felt somepony tugging on him in an attempt to get him to his hooves. He stood, ignoring the aching that still throbbed through his head. He kept his eyes shut in fear of being yelled at for stupidity on his part. Again, the voice said something different.

"You don't have to keep your eyes closed", whoever it was said, "I'm not going to shout at you."

Pitch took that as his cue to let his eyelids creak open. What filled them other than light was a light, gray-amber mare wearing a white collar and a purple bowtie. Her mane and tail were both tidy and well-styled. Instantly, he knew that this mare was packing some heavy money. But there was something about her that told she was different from the rest of Canterlot's society. She was looking at him with gray-purple eyes of concern, not hate or arrogance.

"I-I'm sorry", he quickly stammered, "I turned too fast and I must've hit you…"

"No, I'm quite fine", she replied, "You did hit my instrument case though."

She pointed to a large, black, violin shaped case on the ground. Pitch knew that it was the crash he heard. And that it was the reason his head hurt so badly.

"Oh, sorry…" He looked away, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Please, there is no reason to apologize. As I had said: I wasn't watching where I was going", she interrupted. "And besides, the case isn't broken."

"I'm…" Pitch just let it go. There was no sense in arguing.

"Okay I hope", the mare giggled.

He nodded sheepishly, having forgotten everything that had just happened. When the silence threatened to get awkward, he spoke again. "I guess I'll…"

She offered him her hoof, "I'm Octavia. Octavia Melody."

He shook it, "Pitch. Perfect Pitch. Just call me Pitch, no pony, and I mean no pony, calls me Perfect. I hate it when ponies call me Perfect. I'm the exact opposite."

"I will keep that in mind, Pitch", Octavia replied.

After they had finished shaking the other's hoof, Octavia gave Pitch a quick once over. He was a hair taller than she was, and his mane was a light blue with crisscrossed darker blue lines running through it as was his tail. His wings were the same blue as his coat, but his larger feathers were red-tipped. His cerulean eyes were a few shades lighter than her purple ones, giving him a confident profile. Then she noticed his Cutie Mark.

"You must not come through here often", she assumed.

He nodded, "Actually this is my first time taking in the sights. I was hoping to catch a free concert or something to blow off some steam I had earlier."

Octavia knew then exactly how to make up for the red mark on Pitch's forehead. "Well, in that case, come with me. I'm scheduled for an audition in a few minutes. You can watch without charge. Consider it a token of my apology."

"Really…uh, thanks", Pitch said awkwardly.

"You're welcome", replied Octavia cheerfully. She stooped to pick up her instrument. Before she reached it, Pitch hurriedly picked it up for her.

"I'll hold onto this for you", he said, slipping it onto his back. It was heavy for an instrument, but Pitch could handle it. It was nothing compared to some other things he's had to carry before.

"No, I'm quite capable", she argued, reaching for it.

He backed away a few steps. "Nah, I couldn't letcha wear yourself out before your audition." The look he gave her told Octavia that she wasn't about to win the dispute without being late.

"I suppose it will be fine", she said, giving up. She started off in the direction she was last headed.

He trotted alongside her. As he passed her, the smell of her perfume gently entered his nose. It was so thin that he barely got the whiff, but he could still judge it to be the best smell that he had ever smelled.

"So…" Pitch began, "Where're we going?"

"To the Interlude Hall of Music", she answered. She glanced at him as she waited to see if he would see the irony.

"I'm no dictionary, but I do know that interlude means 'quiet'", he said, confused, "I know that from my dad."

"Yes, the name may contradictory, but it is one of the most prodigious music academies in Equestria." She was surprised that this baseball player knew something about something other than a homerun, but, then again, that was just a stereotype she was referring to.

"Academy? Are you trying to get a scholarship or something?"

"No, nothing in relation to that", she replied, "The auditions are being held for those whose dream is to join the Celestial Orchestra."

Pitch almost blurted out what to him was a useless piece of trivia, but he instead asked, "Isn't that the group that plays at the Celestial Passing every year?"

"Why, yes. How did you know that?" She gazed at him in curiosity.

"My dad", he simply answered, "He's a musician too, so I pick up on some things." He gave her a cheeky look.

"Really, that's fascinating." She looked at the athlete. He was still walking forward, his sights on her for the moment.

"What is?" Pitch asked, "My dad being a musician, or me being a ball player?"

His quip caught her off guard. She was about to speak, but he interrupted her.

"I get my athletic side from my mom. She's a ball player too", Pitch explained. He added with a chuckle, "Don't ask how they fell in love. I'm still completely confused at how a musician and an athlete could fall for each other."

"It is said that opposites attract", Octavia commented.

Pitch eyed her oddly. "Right. I heard the same thing."

"Oh, we're here!"

Pitch stopped just after she did and looked at the nearest building he saw. It was tall and shiny. Immediately he knew this place would be full of Canterlot's highest social climbers. He sighed to himself. Octavia walked in first, holding the door politely for him as he carried her cello. The inside was much cooler, probably due to the amount of the ice sculptures in the lobby. The sculptures were mainly of instruments, but there was an occasional statue of a singing mare or stallion. They were lined against the walls, leading up to the front desk.

Their hooves echoed against the tile flooring as they crossed the room. When they stopped in front of it, the receptionist glanced up from her papers. She instantly noticed Octavia. "Ms. Melody! You are right on time! Please, enter into the main auditorium through the door on the left."

"Thank you", replied Octavia politely.

Pitch tried to remain as silent and as motionless as possible. He didn't want to get the clerk's attention. It didn't work. As he followed Octavia past the desk, she stopped him. "I'm sorry, sir", she hissed sourly, eyeing his Cutie Mark, "I'm afraid you aren't welcome inside. The public is not allowed to watch the auditions."

Pitch was going to reply something with a sour note of his own, but Octavia beat him to the punch. "I was to understand that this was an open audition."

"I'm afraid, Ms. Melody, that the head judge had changed his mind at the last minute. The public is _not _allowed."

The new tone in her voice toward the cellist made Octavia put a little of her attitude into the mix. "Well, if I cannot have my special guest here with me today, then we shall both take our leave", she said turning, "I am sure the dean will be most satisfied in hearing that his niece will not be attending the auditions."

The receptionist choked on her next reply. "I-I'm so sorry, Ms. Melody. I hadn't realized. You may both enter…"

"Thank you." Octavia's voice had a hint of triumph in it, but it was to get her point across to the clerk.

"Is the dean really your uncle?" Pitch asked in the darkened hallway behind the door the clerk opened for them.

The mare waited for the door to close completely. Through the dim lighting she smiled at him. "No, but it does make for a convincing story, does it not?"

"Could've fooled me." The Pegasus seemed to be a little more relaxed now that there was nearly no light in the hall.

They both kept walking until the light at the end of their metaphorical tunnel started to grow. The faint sounds of a flute drifted into their ears. Both started to intensify as the two ponies advanced. In the auditorium, the only lights present were the stage lights, which were put to their maximum brightness. On stage, a white unicorn was blowing across a flute. Her pink mane fell over her shoulders and was clasped by a big bow in the back.

In the sea of seats sat three judges. The light made it difficult to describe them, but Pitch and Octavia could tell they meant business. Their faces held no emotions, their hooves held clipboards. Every so often, one of them would scribble something down for the perfection of a note, or a comment for a missing chord.

Octavia looked around and spotted the stage door. She pointed to it and he followed her silently, not to disturb the current performer. The door was so small that Pitch had to awkwardly maneuver himself in without banging the cello or his head against the frame. Octavia quietly closed the door behind them.

"We can speak freely now. This section is soundproof, no pony can hear us", Octavia stated.

"Oh, good, because my vocal cords nearly went to sleep", Pitch chuckled. "I can't stand being quiet."

Octavia only offered him a polite smile.

He scratched his mane, "I guess you're not the joking kind, eh?"

Her grin widened. "Only when it is a funny joke."

He gave her a sarcastic glare. "Touché, Octavia."

"I wish we could stay and converse for a while longer, but I am about to go on."

"Say no more." He quickly stooped and slung his shoulder forward. The case's strap wrapped around him and neck of the case swung over his head. He put his hoof up and the case stopped abruptly against it, upright, in front of him.

"That was impressive, Pitch", Octavia complimented.

He smiled modestly. "Thanks. I know a little about counterbalancing."

They both unclasped the locks on the case and Octavia pulled the case open. Holding the case upright with his wing, Pitch peered into it to find that a cello lay within. Octavia pulled it out and balanced in on her back. She grabbed the bow from the case and wedged it in between the cello's strings and the bridge.

"I'll see you on stage", Pitch said. "Break a leg."

"Thank you, I'll play my best. Just for you."

It was an innocent comment, but Pitch's cheeks lit up pink instantly. No mare had ever said anything along those lines to him. _Good thing it's dark in…uh oh…_He thought as he realized that it was brighter in this room since Octavia had flipped the light switch when she closed the door.

He could only chuckle nervously to keep from saying something stupid. She smiled and turned toward the stairs. She climbed the three steps with ease, despite the heavy instrument on her back. Pitch watched as she turned and waited for the unicorn to leave the stage. The Pegasus turned and put his hoof on the door knob. He looked back and saw that Octavia had glanced at him. He gave her a quick nod and smile for luck, then opened the door and stepped out.

One thing he didn't notice when he first walked into the big room was how it was nearly completely empty. The clerk was telling the truth, not trying to keep him out, even though she may have detested him completely.

He crouched slightly to keep out of the judges' sights. He hurriedly made his way up the steps and took a seat several rows behind the judges. No pony noticed him, so he gave a quiet sigh. He gazed at the stage, where the unicorn was still playing her flute. She was fairly decent, according to the ball player. He saw that she was nearly stiff as a board.

_I would imagine so, that's a lot of pressure…_he thought to himself. Pitch strained his eyes, but he couldn't tell if she was sweating or not. She continued playing the instrument for another thirty seconds. She tucked it behind her ear with her magic and bowed politely.

"Thank you for your time", she said to the judges. There was a small amount of uncertainty in her voice.

"We appreciate you coming today", announced the only male judge. "We will contact you when we compare the scores."

The performer bowed again. She exited stage left with a nervous quickness. Pitch could hear the judges murmuring amongst themselves, but couldn't make out any specific words. The quiet conversation died after several seconds.

The stallion cleared his throat. "Next performer!" he called. His voice echoed throughout the large room.

Immediately, Octavia walked onstage. She held her head up confidently, yet she knew deep down that if one thing went wrong, she would break down into a million pieces. She turned to face her audience upon reaching center stage. She gazed at the judges as she leveled her cello in front of her. In the corner of her eye, she spotted her fourth spectator. Octavia saw Pitch smile broadly and give her a healthy wave. For some reason, some of her jitteriness went away. She smiled slightly.

This time, one of the mare judges, a unicorn, spoke. "Tell us your name and what you will be playing today, dearie." Her voice was soft, but it still carried.

Taking a deep breath, Octavia replied calmly, "I am Octavia Melody. Today I will be performing Anponio Hoofaldi's _La primavera _on my cello_._"

"An excellent choice", commented the other female judge, "spring has just begun."

"Thank you", replied Octavia.

"Ms. Melody, you may begin when you are ready", the stallion said.

She nodded and grabbed the bow from in between the strings of her instrument. She settled the long bow on the strings and began her song…

**And my next story written years ago!**

**Trivia:**

**Wondering about **_**La Primavera**_**? Odds are you've heard it before. The human composer is Antonia Vivaldi.**

**Pitch is one of my first OCs coming just before Linen Fiber.**


	2. A Small Get-Together

A Small Get-Together

It seemed as if only two seconds had gone by before Pitch had found himself back in the Canterlot afternoon. He watched the many ponies of Music Avenue pass by as he waited for Octavia to join back up with him. He was still swaying back and forth to the replay of Octavia's music in his head. It wasn't the usual rock he had listened to since he had first picked up a bat, but he liked the way it echoed inside of his head. He wondered if Octavia recorded her songs. It would be great to be able to constantly listen to her music. He turned to the sound of the door opening behind him.

Octavia walked out with a relieved smile spread across her face. She set her instrument down next to him. A sigh escaped her lips.

"Go good?" Pitch was almost bouncing with anticipation. He really hoped she made it.

"I have progressed on to the secondary auditions." She grinned even wider.

"That's awesome!" He jumped into the air and hovered in place. "When are they?"

"I have two weeks to prepare for them", she replied, "I assume you want to come cheer me on?"

"Uh…" A light blush crossed his nose. Rubbing his neck, he replied, "Well, yeah, I mean you play better than I bat!"

She gave him another smile for his poor, but meaningful, comparison. Her gaze turned to the sky, and she noted how orange it was becoming. "Pitch?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you have anything planned for this evening?"

His eyes widened. _Is she asking me on a date?_ he squeaked in his head. "Uh, no, no, I'm free."

"In that case I would like you to a small celebration dinner."

_She is! She is!_ _Ok keep cool, keep cool! _"Sure! I'd love to go!" he yelled. _So much for cool…_

"I'm glad you are as enthusiastic as I am", she giggled, "I'll be waiting for you in the lobby of the _Emerald Cube _hotel."

_The Emerald Cube? Geez, that's expensive…_he thought. "W-what time?" he asked excitedly.

"Shall we say seven?"

"I say yes!"

She giggled again, sending Pitch's face into a deep red color. She pretended not to notice to spare him anymore embarrassment. "Then I will see you there. Goodbye for now, Pitch."

"See ya later." He continued to flutter in place while she departed for her hotel. When he was absolutely sure that Octavia could no longer see or hear him, he flew straight up with a cheer that echoed up and down the street, causing several ponies to look up at the absurdly loud Pegasus. He straightened out his wings and used the updraft of the buildings around him to carrying him over the block. He barely concentrated on where he was going in his excitement and accidentally cut into the paths of several other Pegasi flying the same way. He didn't hear the words of protests and insults from the snooty ponies and instead kept gliding home.

For the fastest path to his apartment, Pitch gained an altitude higher than those of the buildings that towered into the Canterlot sky. The wind was at least three times stronger than the lower altitudes, giving the novice flier a shock by nearly blowing him right out of the sky. He powered through it, managing to get headway after he applied what he learned from his flight lessons years before. The sinking sun set the city ablaze with golden orange. If it was possible, he managed to become even more excited than before. His Pegasus nature almost caused him the mistake of rolling over in a stunt, but his cautious mind prevented him from killing himself with an impossible trick.

His exhausting flight came to a stop when he finally reached the top floor of one of Canterlot's more luxurious apartment buildings. His penthouse's balcony nearly collapsed under his crash landing. Luckily, the colt found he didn't break anything, not even his nose, which he landed on, once the dizziness faded from his vision. Hopping up from his would-be crater, Pitch uncovered the spare key to his balcony under the doormat and happily let himself in. The inside of his penthouse suite was something that many of the ponies of the higher society of Canterlot owned. The latest styles in furniture and décor furnished every room. Needless to say he was the product of wealthy parents. Fortunately, he would never forget that, and, like always, he gave the top of the frame of his mother and father an acknowledging pat.

There were a couple hours before he had to meet Octavia, so he decided to pass the time reminiscing. "Heh", he chuckled to himself, "Dad's really gonna get a kick outta this. Me liking a cellist…yeah, that sounds weird, but whatever. She's a pretty cool pony. Mom's going to make fun of me so much!"

Why he was talking to himself about the reactions of his parents he didn't know. To anypony that would have taken an interest in watching a colt pace around his apartment, they might have assumed he was doing so to put out the flaming blush that took over his face as well as quell the massive, goofy smile that accompanied it. Once a few glasses of ice water were cooling his insides, he managed to get a hold on his face.

"Okay", he sighed as the last few drops of enthusiasm evaporated. "I need to get ready for tonight. I'll make sure to get a quick shower in…should I wear something? Man, Dad would know…"

A knock echoed from his living room door. Behind the door, as fate would have it, stood two ponies that were about a head taller than him. One wore a red and white baseball jersey sporting the team name "Red Bucks" on the front. She wore heavily layered eye black and was chewing what was probably her favorite chewing gum. Her counterpart wore a full black tuxedo complete with red bowtie.

The stallion smiled down at the ball player. "How did your game go, Son?" he asked with a deep conductor's voice.

Pitch frowned. "I blew it", he huffed as he let them in.

"Oh, come on!" said his mother loudly after a loud pop of her chewing gum. "It can't be any worse than mine!"

"I walked six batters", he replied flatly, "By accident!"

"Yikes."

His father offered him a sympathetic smile. "Maybe you'll do better next time."

"With my luck…I really don't know, Dad."

"One day we'll check in and you'll have good news, Pitch", said his mom with a ruffle of his mane.

"Actually, I have a date tonight."

His parents stared at him in disbelief. He smiled at how funny they looked. To confirm that he wasn't lying and that their ears were indeed working, Pitch nodded. "Yep. With a cellist."

If they looked as if they didn't believe him before, there were no words to describe the change their faces underwent to display their surprise. However, with their careers overseen by hundreds if not thousands of ponies at one time, they both managed to overcome the shock rather quickly. Behind that lay happiness for their son.

"I never thought you'd drop a baseball long enough to even look at a mare let alone find the time to go out with one", said his father.

"Well, since my baseball career's in the gutter right now, I figured why not. Anyway, I need help with what to wear and stuff. We're having dinner at the_ Emerald Cube_."

"Expensive", his mother commented.

"And fancy", added his father.

"And I don't have a single suit", Pitch sighed.

"Haha! You won't need something that formal", laughed the older stallion, "I have something else in mind for you…"

**P**

Several hours went by, and soon the orange afternoon sky turned deep purple. The pedestrian traffic slowed to a crawl now that most ponies were home and enjoying the evening away from work. Pitch found himself as one of the few still traveling the streets. He was going to be a few minutes early by what his father had told him. That was good given the circumstances. It would ensure he didn't appear too punctual nor laggard. His destination came into view around the next few corners. Just before entering the lavish hotel, the Pegasus checked his breath once more. He would have hated to embarrass himself with something so small. To avoid the watchful eyes of the doormare, Pitched slipped in using a large stallion as cover. Now there was the matter of finding the restaurant half of the giant, brass finished _Emerald Cube_.

Meanwhile, as Pitch became familiar with the inside of the lobby, a mare already situated at a dining table deeper into the first floor. She watched the entrance from the corner of her eye. It was five minutes before seven. Octavia hoped Pitch knew where he was going. It would be very embarrassing if she should have specified where dinner would be. She shifted uneasily in her seat. Doubts began to fill her mind two minutes later, leading her to fiddle with the beads sewn into her simple black dress. She had no idea what she should have worn, and figured the safest thing to put on was the minidress her friend Vinyl Scratch insisted she pack just in case there was some sort of semi-formal party.

"Canterlot's full of higher ups", said the unicorn the day Octavia was to leave for the regal city. "It's practically law you'll be invited to one or something."

Now that she thought about it, Octavia sure was glad the DJ had talked her into it. The dress might have been simple, but at least she was wearing something. Pitch was bound to wear something more formal given the reputation of the _Emerald Cube._ Thoughts of what he might look like in a full tuxedo made her giggle to herself. Seeing the dusty, dirt-covered baseball player she met only hours before clean and in a heavy jacket was almost too funny. Those memories were probably the reason she didn't notice a cobalt colt walk through the open doors. After a brief conversation with the usher, he was guided to her table. Only when he sat did she finally see him.

"Place looks smaller on the outside", he chuckled.

For a few seconds, the mare was speechless. Pitch had gone through a complete transformation since she last saw him. Being freshly showered, groomed, and dressed in a simple blue vest and white bow tie, she almost didn't recognize him. If it wasn't for the red that highlighted the tips of his wings and the crisscrossing dark blue stripes in his mane and tail, she would have thought she was looking at a new stallion altogether.

"I thank you for combing your mane for tonight", she jested.

"Heh, don't get used to it. I don't look this snazzy too much." He smile. "You look pretty good yourself. I'd say ya hit a homer with that dress."

Even though she didn't quite understand him, she accepted his compliment modestly. "I don't necessarily agree…it's just something that I happened to have on hoof."

"Then we're in the same dugout. I don't even own anything but this vest."

Thankfully, before the awkward conversation about their clothes could continue, their waiter approached the table. "Good evening. I am Silver Platter and I will be your waiter for this fine meal. What may I get you to start the meal off?"

Pitch went for his menu, and was surprised to find Octavia had both of them. Apparently she wanted to order the appetizers. "We would like the stuffed mushrooms for two, please?"

"Ah, an excellent choice. And to drink?"

"Apple cider", Pitch said to keep Octavia from ordering from him.

"Grape cider", said the mare.

"I will return shortly." With a polite bow, the unicorn departed for the kitchen to place the order.

"Stuffed mushrooms?" Pitched inquired curiously.

"Yes, I apologize for not letting you have a chance to offer your order. I was caught in the moment and wanted to avoid upsetting our waiter. Besides, I'm sure we will both enjoy them."

"Can't be worse than my cooking", Pitch admitted.

"Or mine", she giggled. "I think we've found a common ground."

Pitch saw an opportunity to flatter her and took it. "I thought we already had one."

"Which would be?"

He grinned. "Great cello music."

Octavia's smile slowly faded into a curious look. "'Great cello music'?"

"Well, I mean…yeah", he said, "I really liked the way you played."

She looked away, sporting a diffident blush and smile. "Thank you…Not many ponies compliment my music much anymore."

"Really? I am and I will everytime you play."

"You're very kind." Octavia flashed her teeth with her next smile.

"Better than giving somepony a bad day."

Since he had gone into the topic of her music, she felt obligated to go into the wilds of baseball. He would more than likely appreciate it. The only problem was she didn't know the first thing about the sport. "So…you play baseball", she stated awkwardly. Her blush deepened from modest to full out embarrassed.

"Yeah. Canterlot Trotters", he confirmed proudly. He pointed out his attire. "Team colors."

"Are you well practiced?"

"I'm major league, so yeah, but I've been having some pretty bad luck this season…"

"Oh? Perhaps it is temporary."

"I hope so…" He scratched the back of his head. "I'd hate to be kicked from the team…"

"I'm sure your luck will turn around."

Her smile actually gave him hope. "Thanks. That oughta help during practice tomorrow."

"Your drinks", said Silver Platter suddenly, appearing amidst their conversation.

"Thank you."

Pitch sipped his cider in thought. He quickly shook himself free of his baseball plague thoughts. The last thing he wanted to do was recede into himself and accidentally ignore dinner to dwell on his failures. He searched for something else to say, but nothing outside cellos and baseball really crossed his mind. That was until he remembered they were seated inside the restaurant of a hotel.

"So…where are you from?"

"I come from a small town called Ponyville in the countryside of Bridle Valley."

"Ponyville? I have an old friend who lives there! Do you know a Fluttershy?"

"There's nopony in Ponyville who doesn't", stated the cellist. "And if you are wondering, she is doing well, though afraid of heights."

"Yeah, that's Fluttershy alright", he chuckled.

"Indeed. So you are born and raised here in Canterlot?"

He nodded. "My whole family is from here. Never really been outta town except for a few games. Even then it's just a train ride to the stadium and back."

"Perhaps you should take a vacation."

The suggestion was so sudden that Pitch almost disregarded it. However, imagining a little time off away from the city did sit in a cozy place in his mind. He nodded. "Yeah. Sounds like a good idea. Maybe when the season's over."

"When will that be?"

"Twelve more games…somewhere in the ballpark six months. Why?"

"No reason", she harmlessly lied.

The rest of the evening slowly kneaded itself into a blur. The more Pitch and Octavia became acquainted, the more they came to like each other. Interest after interest came up between them to such an extent that the food that was supposed to be gourmet went by untasted by the two conversers. However much time passed, Pitch couldn't tell. That's exactly what he tried to figure out after while he walked home. Disappointed, yet somehow as happy as the night was young, he trotted merrily home, thinking about the mare that touched something deep inside him. "I wonder when I'll see her again…"

If only Pitch could have seen the near future…

**Ooh, I wonder what's going to happen next! So suspenseful!**

**Trivia:**

**Pitch's parents are nameless for now, but I will get their names up over the next couple of chapters.**

**To keep from forgetting the almost endless web of friendships and relationships, I have concocted a confusing Pony Relationship Chart that my girlfriend is currently rewriting for me to keep the confusion down.**


End file.
